


Not Your Average Fairy Tale

by TatsuKitty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bottom Derek, Canon Compliant, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Humor, I Don't Even Know, I'm not sorry, M/M, Magic, Mpreg, POV Stiles, Post S4, Post Season 4, Switching, This was a sims game that i wrote into a fic, fairies made them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3085364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TatsuKitty/pseuds/TatsuKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh god, what even is my life.”  He managed when his chest stopped feeling like it was about to cave in.  “I’m pregnant. This is not a thing that should happen. I’m pregnant and the babydaddy hates me. Jesus Christ.” </p>
<p>	“You’re what.” Derek’s voice was harsh and surprised. </p>
<p>	“Surprise.”  Stiles managed with a lackluster set of jazz hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Average Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so slight dubcon in that they were spurned by the fairies but they both want it they are both just STUPID. This fic was surprisingly hard for me to write. I had been playing a sims game (modded) and it was hilarious! this fic honestly was surprisingly feely for being based off that. It's one that feels a bit odd for me which might be because real life kicked my ass recently. ANYWAY ENJOY PREGNANT BOYS \0/
> 
> As usual, this fic is the fault of The Meta Pack and beta'd by the ever lovely AlphasSpark! Any remaining issues are totes mine.

It just had to be fairies.

Stiles gasped hard as he ran from the little winged assholes, a few paces behind Derek.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” He snapped at the werewolf leading the way through the forest, trying not to pass out or puke like lacrosse tryouts all over again.

“If you can yell you aren’t running fast enough!” Derek called back.

Stiles glared harder at Derek’s back before he suddenly found himself hitting the brick wall of Derek’s back and shoulders when the older man skidded to a stop.

“What the fu—“

They were surrounded. Derek held his arms out protectively around Stiles, spinning to look for the biggest threat. Stiles turned and put his back against Derek’s. He tugged his keys out of his pockets and put them in between his fingers, just in case.

“Ooh we got them! Look! How cute!” One of them grinned and clapped her hands. She was angular and glittery. She bounced on the balls of her feet and then looked to the men on either side of her. Or. Well. Stiles thought they were men. He could have been wrong. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Stiles was pretty sure he didn’t want to know. He went to move but Derek clamped tight hands over his arms, holding him still.

“Don’t provoke them.” Derek murmured to him. They talked to each other in clanging bell like noises. It sounds like wind chimes in a storm.

“Newsflash, big guy, they’re gonna fuck us up anyway.”

“And now… Party!” The clapping girl proclaimed with a bounce into the air. They cheered and began to dance in a circle. Mushrooms sprouted up at their feet as they went. The air shimmered and Stiles felt an odd smile curl over his face. He heard a light sound from behind him and spun to look at Derek. He was staring at the lights shimmering overhead and laughing. His face was lit up, eyes looking like a daytime sky filled with stars, crinkled in the corner and a smile like sunshine.

Stiles felt a swoop of want curl low in his stomach but he shoved it to the side to laugh with him again.

“What did you do?” Stiles asked and laughed again.

“Oh, sweet human, he didn’t upset US.” She shook her head.

“But…” he blinked at her. He felt slow and stupid.

“You earned a gift.” She pet over his cheekbones. “You both have risked your lives so much. But how can you truly appreciate it without creating it?”

“That doesn’t make sense.” He tried to shake his head and shake off the fog. She pressed a strawberry flavored kiss to his mouth and then turned him around again. He smiled stupidly at Derek, who looked dazedly at him from an inch away.

“Hi…” He murmurs. Stiles felt the word against his mouth. It was the easiest thing in the world to lean into him and kiss him. He felt Derek’s large hands stroke under his shirt and up his spine. The fairies making encouraging sounds and dancing around them, clapping in rhythmic motions. Stiles gave a jubilant laugh and buried both hands in Derek’s hair.

“Hi. You’re kinda beautiful, dude.” He felt, vaguely, that it should be embarrassing, but he watched the lights dance in Derek’s pale, wide eyes and knew it was true. His pupils were tiny and the Fairies cheered. Derek shook his head and looked forlorn.

“I’m not. I’m… I…”

“You are.” Stiles insisted and leaned in to press another kiss to him. Derek made a small, needy sound in the back of his throat, clutched tighter to Stiles’ hips and shoulders, as if he couldn’t get enough of his touch. Stiles pulled back to breathe and pressed their foreheads together gently.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How would you hurt me?” Stiles murmured, confusion fighting through the happy fog in his head. Derek always protected him. They had a mutual saving each other thing.

“Everyone I… I care about they…” He choked off. Stiles pressed the tip of his nose up the bridge of Derek’s.

“We save each other. It’s what we do.” He replied earnestly. “You won’t hurt me. I won’t hurt you.”

Derek sagged in relief and nuzzled close against him. Stiles felt his heart clench in his chest and stroked over his beard, the back of Derek’s neck, his shoulders, down his arms.

Derek keened softly and arched into the touch. Something in Stiles’ chest clenched at that. He felt strong, protective and powerful. It was almost headier than the magic and chiming of the fairies around them.

He moves and sucks a rapidly healing mark onto Derek’s throat and then slides his hands up, taking Derek’s shirt off. Derek whines when he pulls back. Hands press them together, laughter and the chiming bell sounds of the fairies’ language ringing through the air as Stiles’ clothing comes off. Time flows oddly. It slips by in the feeling of Derek’s warm, velvety skin over hard muscles beneath Stiles fingers until they are lying in a soft bed of moss. They’re naked and Stiles felt surprisingly unashamed despite the large crowd. He couldn’t focus on anything but Derek. He tasted salty sweet and slightly bitter, like chocolate covered pretzels. Stiles stroked a loose hand over Derek’s cock and reveled in the shifts of his expression, in the pull of his full lips over his adorable teeth and his fluttering eyelashes and the arch and curve of his chest.

“I want... I need… Can I, Derek?” He asked, stroking over his balls and perineum.

“Yeah… yes, Stiles, please.” Derek murmured. Someone pressed slick to Stiles free hand and he didn’t even look up to thank the fairy before slicking a finger to push into Derek.

“God, Derek... you’re so beautiful. You’re so good.” He murmured and pressed open-mouthed kisses down his chest. Derek moaned loudly and shuddered when he was praised. Stiles kept up a litany of praise as he slowly stretched him out. He was mesmerized by the sight of his fingers pushing into Derek. He groaned and his hips shifted into each of Stiles’ movements. He was surprisingly vocal, until he was practically sobbing and his thighs shook where they were spread.

Derek begged until Stiles slicked himself, shifting nervously. His hands shook where his fingers spread wide over Derek’s hips. “I’ve never. I haven’t…yet.” He admits. “Let me know what you need.”

Derek nods jerkily and cants his hips up as Stiles pushes in slowly. He paused when he was fully in, gasped for breath and dropped his head to Derek’s shoulder. “Holy fuck.”

“God, Stiles...” Derek shuddered. “C’mon.” he rocked his hips. Stiles saw stars before he started thrusting in a steady rhythm. Derek met him thrust for thrust and gasped against Stiles’ open mouth.

“Oh my god, Derek,” He shuddered. “I’m totally not going to last.”

“Yeah, yeah me either,” Derek managed. He kissed him hard, reaching down to stroke over Derek’s cock. He arched hard and made a sound that in any other situation would probably sound rather embarrassing but instead sends a flood of heat into Stiles’ stomach that punches straight out of his cock. He makes a noise like a dying elephant himself and comes hard, thrusting reflexively. Derek spasmed through the end of his orgasm and clutched Stiles close, like he was scared Stiles would leave.

“Fuck. I’m here, It’s good. You good?” He murmurs, kissing below Derek’s ear.

“Yes. Good. God.” Derek murmured, sounding blissed out. He looked wrecked.

“Good. I wanna try that now.”

“…Give me thirty minutes.”

** * **

The morning after was… interesting, to say the least. Stiles and Derek woke up, both sticky and glittery, surrounded by the passed out bodies of the fairies. Derek shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes.

“Hey.” Stiles grabbed his chin and tugged gently until Derek looked at him. “You ok?” His eyes widened slightly.

“I’m not entirely sure.”

“I still feel a little floaty. We’re good though, right?” Derek’s eyes darted to the side, avoiding him. “Derek.”

“I don’t know, Stiles. I don’t know yet.”

“Alright. Let’s get out of here before they decide to pass us around.” He winced as he stood. He tried not to flush with embarrassment. He was lean, muscled, but pale as a fish belly and speckled with beauty marks. He had a thatch of hair low on his belly and a little strip on his chest. Derek was more evenly covered, sculpted. His stomach didn’t dip in the way Stiles’ did between his hip bones. His shoulders didn’t look too big for his waist either. Stiles felt gangly and awkward but tried to fake confidence. He held a hand out to Derek to help him up. Derek flushed up the back of his neck and took it. They scrambled the lost bits of their clothing together and stuffed them on quickly before making the trek to their cars again.

“Can you do something for me?” Stiles huffed as he scampered over a log.

“What.”

“Question marks are a thing, Derek.” He reprimanded lightly. “Don’t hole up in your house if you’re not ok.” Derek stopped to look at him, face blocked off. “Just… call me or come over or something.”

“Shouldn’t I be telling you this?”

“Not really.” Stiles shrugged. “First time was with someone who legit saved my life in a fairy ring. There were like shiny glittery lights and everything. I had a legit fairytale. It’s a bit cliché.” Derek flinched like he’d been slapped when Stiles reminded him that it was his first. “I’m good. Surprisingly good. So…yeah, just like. Text or call or something.”

“Fine.” Derek muttered, turned away and stalked off towards the cars again. Stiles took a deep breath and sighed. It could have been worse, he supposed.

He could have blurted out his pathetic man-crush on Derek

** * **

To the surprise of exactly no one, Derek didn’t call or text. There was radio silence aside from Stiles’ constant messaging with Scott. He brought lunch to the station every day and chilled out with Lydia and Parrish as Parrish did his paperwork for the day.

He started feeling strange after a few weeks went by. His skin felt odd and flaky in some spots, he broke out. He actually grew some facial hair, which he’d never previously managed with any sort of success. Some smells started bothering him for no discernable reason at all. They changed from day to day. One day, oranges made him feel ill and the next day it was all he wanted to eat.

He sent a few texts to Derek each week, usually about mundane things. He never got a reply. He tried not to mope about it too hard, but every time he checked his phone, his stomach would sink with disappointment.

Things came to a head when he went to the station for lunch again. They’d just finished eating when Lydia came in and took a chair next to Parrish. Her perfume wafted over like it normally did but it felt like a punch to the gut. Everything inside him churned and roiled. He barely made it to the trash can before puking up his guts.

“Stiles?” She asked and moved over to help him. The smell turned his stomach again and he waved her away.

“Oh god, no, get away, sorry, Lyds, your perfume is just…” He gagged again and spit into the can.

“…I didn’t even put any on today, Stiles.” She looked puzzled and slightly calculating. Stiles just shook his head.

“I think I’m coming down with something. I’ve been weird about food too.” He rubbed his angry stomach.

“I’ve got the trash can, Stiles. Just go home.” Parrish waved him off.

“Thanks, man.” He stood on shaking knees and stumbled to drive about 5 miles an hour all the way home.

His phone buzzed as soon as he collapsed onto the couch and shut his eyes. He sighed and stamped down on his small moment of hope that Derek had finally replied. He checked and it was Scott.

**R U ok?**

**Totally ralphed. : < **he sent back and rolled over.

****Mom says 2 com over l8r 4 checkup.****

**** <3 ur mom. Sleep now. ** **He buried his face in a couch cushion and curled around his stomach. He felt amazingly better now that he couldn’t smell Lydia’s perfume. His phone rang and he heaved a big sigh.

“’lo?”

“Hey, kid. Parrish said you got sick? You made it home ok?”

“Hey, dad. Yeah, Lydia’s perfume just got to me today. Melissa’s going to take a look at me later when she gets off work.”

“Good. You want me to bring you home anything?”

“Nah, there’s no telling what my stomach’s going to do. Remember the oranges?”

“I do. You been hanging around many pregnant women?” His dad laughed at his own joke.

“Nope, fairly sure pregnancy isn’t catching either way.” He snorted and rolled onto his back.

“Alright, kiddo. Get some rest.” His dad urged. Stiles agreed before they said their goodbyes and he rolled to turn the TV on and veg for a while.

He rubbed slow circles on his stomach, trying to ignore the worry that settled beneath his fingers.

** * **

The checkout from Melissa gave him a clean bill of health as far as she could find.

“Without doing blood tests or anything, I can’t really tell more. You seem fine, Stiles. Just weird, what a surprise.” She had teased him.

So Stiles went about his daily life. The days got colder and the grass crisped under his feet as he took a midnight walk. Things in the town had settled down to an almost stand still after the hectic months of werewolf shenanigans. It was still hard to sleep some nights, thinking of the dreams of the Nogitsune, the lives lost, Derek with blood spilling over his lips urging Stiles to save Scott…

He shook his head to clear it and then paused. He heard an odd, shuffling walk and something crunching. He turned with no small amount of trepidation to find what looked like a person crunching on his garden.

“Hey!” he exclaimed and jogged up to them and grabbed them by the shoulder. It was cold under his hand and they spun around with a moaning sound heard only in zombie movies.

“You’ve got to be shitting me…” he murmured, backing up rapidly. It was a zombie. A literal fricking zombie in his yard! The zombie reached out her grimy hands towards him and he sucked in a sharp breath to scream when she… grabbed a hold of the gardenia bush and started gnawing on it. “…the fuck?” He grabbed a stick and started leading her off with it. “C’mon. Nice zombie? Get the stick! Good girl!” He led her into the preserve and then jogged at full speed to Derek’s loft. He dug in his pockets for a minute before tugging out his key ring and opening the door.

“Huge problem… oh god hold on I’m gonna puke.” Stiles managed before he gagged and veered into the kitchen to puke in the sink. He slowly rinsed his mouth and rested shaking hands on the sink.

“How did you get in here?” Derek asked. He was wearing dark grey sweatpants and a sweater with thumbholes. Honest to god thumbholes. How dare he. Stiles tried to ignore the low swoop in his stomach that came with the memory of Derek arching up under him or the remembered scrape of his stubble over Stiles’ throat when Derek thrust into him…

“Stole the keys of everyone in the pack and made copies in case of emergencies.” He hiccupped and tried to make sure his stomach was settled before he stepped away from the sink. He carefully thought of disgusting things, like oranges (again). “So… zombies are a thing.”

“Again?” Derek sighed and made his customary bitch face, pursed lips, flat brows, tight jaw.

“That is not the proper reaction to zombies!” Stiles protested and waggled his hands towards Derek.

“They aren’t harmful unless you’re suddenly a carrot.”

“What? Well, I found one chewing its’ way through my garden…”

“They go for plants. It’s typically caused by morons eating the mushrooms from a fairy circle.”

“….Like the fairy circle we—“ he cut himself off and tried not to blush too hard. He could practically feel the splotches on his cheeks. Derek refused to meet his eyes and nodded, silent. “So… go pluck up the mushrooms and burn them?” He suggested, trying to stave off the awkwardness.

“Sure. Have fun with that. I’m going back to bed.” Derek turned around.

“Hey!” Stiles protested, reaching out to snag Derek’s shoulder. He flinched, hard, away from him and shot him a glare. Stiles heart sunk into his stomach. “You’ve ignored me  
on purpose, haven’t you?”

“That took you long enough to figure out.” He replied and crossed his arms over his chest. Stiles absolutely didn’t feel a rush of tears to his eyes. It was just allergies or the left over from puking his guts up in a sink.

“Oh.” He hated how small his voice sounded. He gulped hard and rubbed at one eye. He squirmed, uncomfortable in the face of Derek’s cold indifference. “Well. Uh. I’ll catch you around later, then.” He made a few abortive movements towards the door with his hands as he turned and left. He wandered back home slowly. If he cried, well… at least there was no one else around to see him.

** * **

Scott helped Stiles track down the Fairy Ring again because hell if Stiles could remember the path he and Derek ran through the preserve to get to it. The affected individuals were still wandering around town periodically, but with lack of a fresh source of the mushrooms Stiles assumed that it would end eventually. He had taken to beating some of the zombies out of his garden with broom sticks. Those were his mother’s begonias, dammit!

He still hadn’t heard from Derek.

The puking eased into something sporadic enough that Stiles stopped having nightmarish visions of dying from some rare, unheard of disease until he noticed it. ‘It’ being the small, hard bump that was now protruding between his hipbones. He ran a hand over it, fingers shaking, before he called Scott in a panic.

“Hey, Stiles, I’m with Kir—“

“I think I have a tumor.”

“—a…We’ll be there in five.” The line clicked dead. Stiles dropped his phone and pressed his shoulders to the wall at the corner of his bed, counting his breathing. The front door burst open and both of them rushed into Stiles room. Kira got to him first, rubbing slow hands over his arms.

“Hey, buddy.” Scott crawled up next to him and took a couple delicate sniffs. His eyes flashed red and he went pale.

“Oh god, I’m dying, aren’t I?” Stiles pressed over his stomach. “that’s why I’ve been puking and I can’t eat things. I can SEE it.”

“It’s on your stomach?” Kira asked, brows pulled together in a sharp frown.

“Y-yeah… look...” He shifted to pull up his shirt just a little, showing the hard little curve.

“Holy crap…” Scott murmured and then pulled out his phone. “Mom? We have a really big problem. I don’t know what to do.”

** * **

Stiles refused to be taken to the hospital again. He couldn’t put the bills on his dad, not until they knew more, and he absolutely didn’t want them to call him from work. He wanted to break the news slowly… So that’s how he and Melissa, Scott, Kira, Lydia, and Liam ended up at Deaton’s office. Malia and Braeden were both on speaker phone in  
Liam’s hand.

“He smells different too?” Malia asked. He’d texted her periodically, trying not to disturb their uneasy new friendship or her budding sisterhood with Braeden while they looked for the Desert Wolf.

“Yeah.” Scott replied. Liam shifted nervously. Melissa rubbed a soothing palm between Stiles’ shoulders as they waited for Deaton to come back into the room.

“How long has this been happening?” He asked as he took his customary place by the metal exam table. Deaton’s voice was calm and cryptic as always.

“Uh… about three… three and a half months?” Stiles tried to map it out in his head.

“When the fairy ring appeared.” Deaton asked without asking. Stiles blinked at him.

“I... uh. Yeah.”

“What fairy ring?” Scott and Malia asked at the same time. Scott looked at the phone and gave a half smile.

“The one you and Derek were both caught in. I’m guessing he didn’t see fit to inform you of his last visit to me?”

“He… isn’t talking to me, right now.” Stiles evaded and bit his bottom lip. The pack looked around at each other with expressions Stiles chose not to analyze. Deaton merely looked exasperated.

“Nausea, vomiting, odd food cravings, intolerance of certain smells, odd sleeping patterns? Swollen feet?”

“Yes.” Stiles confirmed. Melissa had a look of dawning horror and realization.

“There’s no way—‘ She started but Deaton cut her off with a nod.

“Congratulations, Stiles. You’re pregnant.”

He stared at Deaton for a few moments as the pack looked on in varying states of stunned disbelief.

“I’m a man. I have all the man parts and none of the woman parts. That’s not a thing.”

“It is when the fairies give you the gift of procreation.” Deaton replied calmly.

“You didn’t even do a test on me!”

“No, but I did to a test on Derek last month.”

“What.”

“He’s currently in the same condition.” Deaton replied with his infallible calm. Malia squawked over the phone in surprise and everyone in the pack started talking at once over each other. It sounded like rushing water in Stiles’ ears. He dropped off the exam table and walked over to the canister of oxygen. He was pulling it to his face when the shouting reached a new pitch and Scott grabbed him. He panicked and thrashed in his and Melissa’s grip screaming and freaking out.

“Stiles!” Scott yelled and then Lydia walked up and slapped him across the cheek. The pain shocked him out of it and she grabbed his face.

“I can’t breathe!” He protested.

“That’s anesthetic!” She pinched at his cheeks.

“Oh.” He dropped it sheepishly. “Hey, did you ever use that on any of the werewolves?”

“Unbelievable.” She shook her head and let go of his face. The panic had subsided into rage. Derek had known and didn’t bother to tell Stiles? He shook them all off and pushed through the pack, waving off Scott’s concerned hands. He ran out to the jeep and got in, slamming the door and ignoring his seatbelt in favor of driving right the fuck now to Derek’s loft.

He was going to kick some werewolf ass.

** * **

He burst into Derek’s loft to find him on the phone. One hand was holding it to his ear and the other was splayed protectively over his lower stomach. His head snapped up to look at Stiles as he came in. His eyes were wide with…fear.

Stiles felt his anger explode and leave nothing but exhaustion and hurt in its wake.

“He’s here.” Derek said into the phone and then hung it up. His face was now carefully blank.

“So, you’re a lot better at bullshitting then I gave you credit for.” Stiles managed to croak out. His throat felt like it was closing, the room tilting on its axis. His voice was low and husky. Derek’s eyebrows moved in a questioning way. “You didn’t wanna hurt me, right?” Derek looked surprisingly young and confused and Stiles didn’t know if he wanted to cuddle him close and pretend it was all ok or slap him around the head.

“You said. That night. You said you didn’t want to hurt me. You agreed; we take care of each other. Well what is this then?” He waggled a jagged motion of one hand between them both. “You don’t reply to my texts. I show up here and you see me puke, I tell you about zombies eating my garden of all things, and you just… “Oh god, not now. He wheezed his next breath in and shuddered hard. His chest felt like it was in a vice and his knees went watery. He sunk to the floor and struggled to breathe and get his heart rate under control.

“Stiles? Stiles, what’s happening? Your heart is going crazy.” Derek’s voice was closer and worried. Stiles couldn’t make himself look up at him. He clenched his hands into fists on his bent legs. “Is this a panic attack?” Stiles nodded shakily and took an aching gasp in.

“Can I touch you?” Derek asked. Stiles had to think for a second through the fog of horror in his brain panicking about everything, shutting his lungs off, before he gave a jerky nod. Derek smoothed a large hand down Stiles’ back and grabbed the other, pressing it to his own chest. He didn’t say anything else, just kept the soothing motion as Stiles struggled to match his breathing to Derek’s.

“Oh god, what even is my life.” He managed when his chest stopped feeling like it was about to cave in. “I’m pregnant. This is not a thing that should happen. I’m pregnant and the babydaddy hates me. Jesus Christ.”

“You’re what.” Derek’s voice was harsh and surprised.

“Surprise.” Stiles managed with a lackluster set of jazz hands.

Derek shot him an exasperated look as he sat cross legged on the floor in front of him. He buried his face in his hands momentarily and sighed.

“Deaton said you are too?” Stiles prompted. “Were you gonna tell me?”

“That would have defeated the purpose of trying to get you to leave me alone.” Derek replied, dropping his hands down into his lap. Stiles wiped his eyes with the bottom of his shirt unthinkingly. Derek’s eyes snapped to the little bulge and Stiles smoothed his layers back over it rapidly.

“So… you were just going to keep my kid from me?” Stiles frowned hard, anger coming back slowly.

“You’re seventeen. You have your whole life ahead of you. It… shouldn’t be ruined by someone.”

“So your solution was to ruin my life. This is why I make the plans. Your plans suck.”

“How did I ruin your life?”

“Well. You took my virginity and then ignored me for three months. That felt pretty super. Also, keeping my kid from me? Real dick move. I wish I had a rolled up newspaper so I could hit you on the nose with it and say ‘bad Derek’.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your life. You’re still in high school. You’re too young. I shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t have…”

“Well, we did. It’s life! You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. Don’t you think it’d ruin my life more if I found out, and believe me, I would have found out, about ten years down the road that I had a kid and I missed out on his whole life? How would you feel about this one?” He pointed at his own stomach, which was still so freaking weird.

Derek huffed a sigh, shoulders sagging. He moved a tentative hand towards Stiles’ stomach. Stiles felt an awkward squirm in him. How weird was it that something was growing in him? Pretty fucking weird but he took Derek’s hand and pressed it down over the bump.

“Pretty freaky, huh?”

“Pretty amazing.” Derek corrects. He looked like he did when he found out Cora was still alive; awed and slightly disbelieving.

“…you’re coming with me to tell my dad.” He announced and grinned vindictively when all the color drained from Derek’s face.

** * **

Stiles paced as his dad sat on the couch with an expectant look.

“What is it? You find out about those zombies wandering around town? I’ve had to deal with some seriously angry grandmas about their gardens.”

“What? Oh yeah, I took care of that last month.” Stiles shook his head. “This is. Um. Well. Ties in to that a little bit, actually. There was… we found some fairies. Well. The fairies found us, actually.”

“Fairies? Little ones?”

Derek had a look on his face of someone making a resigned connection that Stiles came by his weird sarcasm and curiosity naturally. He nodded a little bit and then took a deep breath.

“Big ones.” Stiles gestured their approximate height. “There was like glitter and shiny stuff and it sounded like bells.”

“Sir…There’s a situation.” Derek chimed in.

“Is it another kanima?” His dad asked.

“No, dad there was only one---Never mind. But. Uh. Shit.”

“Language!”

“Sorry. Uh. So. We’re pregnant.” He decided that quick like a band-aid was the best method of springing the news. His dad laughed and then calmed when he looked at their serious faces.

“You’re not joking. Stiles!” His dad frowns. “Who is pregnant? I’ve given you the talk how many times?”

“Um. We are, sir. We… we both are.” Derek offered and blushed bright red.

“….Hale, I’m pretty sure you’re a man. You’re rather hairy for a woman.”

Stiles decided to go the expedient route and pulled his shirt up and turned to the side, showing the bump in his stomach.

“So… are you going to breastfeed?” His dad asked, sounding shell shocked.

“Well, I was a little shocked by the news and forgot to ask Deaton if I was going to lactate.” Derek replied, gesturing to his stomach and chest.

“Wait... you are too? You both are? Aw hell, I need a beer.” He levered himself up and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle from the fridge. "And no, you can't have any. Either one of you. For godsake. What the hell."

“Well, he’s handling it better than I thought he would.” Stiles aiming for cheerful. Derek’s flat look isn’t really encouraging.

“Can we really call that handling it?” He asked Stiles.

“This beats the kanima thing. I thought it couldn’t get weirder. Is the whole pack pregnant? Who’s the… other parent? Parents?”

“Um. Remember that we’re pregnant.” Stiles cautioned.

“I highly doubt I forgot in the last two minutes, Stiles.” His dad drawled and took a long swig from the bottle.

“Well. We’re… each other’s other parents? They’re both ours. Both of ours? Both both of ours.” Stiles gestured between them. Derek looked like he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

“So let me get this straight…” His dad heaved a sigh. “Not only did you break the laws of nature, you did so with my underage son.” He leveled a finger at Derek.

“Dad, no. Stop right there.” Stiles protested. He hated the look on Derek’s face, like someone had sucked all the confidence and happiness that Derek had managed to accrue this past year out of him and left that broken empty shell that Stiles had seen after Laura’s death.

“Stop right there? He’s what, twenty-seven?”

“…I’m… I just turned twenty four.” Derek murmured. He had shifted, subtle but noticeable to Stiles, where he turned and made a smaller target of himself.

“Still an adult, and my son is not.”

“I started it. Derek didn’t want to. I convinced him.” Stiles moved and snagged one of Derek’s hands. “He wouldn’t take advantage of me. Ever.” Some of the fight went out of his dad.

“It’s still against the law…”

“What are you going to tell them? That you found out because we both got pregnant? How many times has Derek saved both of us, dad? You really think he’d ever do anything like that?” Derek’s hand clutched on Stiles’ tighter, enough that Stiles could feel him shaking.

“No… No, I don’t, son.” He sighed. “But what about Malia? What about my wife giving birth to a son? With son parts!”

“She dumped me, and ran off with Derek’s girlfriend to look for her mom.” Stiles shrugged. “She knows. She was on the phone when I went to the doctor. Fairies don’t care about gender roles, apparently.”

“Why did they all know about this before I did? I thought we were on the same page now, with you telling me what’s going on supernaturally?”

“I… didn’t think it was supernatural. I thought I had cancer, dad.” He finished quietly. His dad made an angry noise.

“So you TELL ME, dammit!”

“I wanted to make sure before I told you, Dad. I didn’t want to worry you if I just had to take a big dump or something.”

“Poetic.” Derek made a face. It sent his dad into a surprised laugh.

“Stiles, I say this with as much love as possible. I hope your child is exactly like you.” His dad stood, clapped them both on the shoulders, and took his beer to the kitchen. “err… two of them, that is. Both of them. Just like you.” He gestured with his empty bottle around the door. He came back with another bottle, this one water.

“Oh god. I need to move out of my house. There’s going to be babies in mine. Again. Stiles babies.”

“Baby Stileses.” Stiles agreed and smiled ear to ear.

“I might cry.” His dad groaned. Derek had a small, amused look on his face as he watched them.

“Sir? I own the building I live in.” Derek offered.

“Bless you, Hale. Pregnant. Of all the worries, that hadn’t ever made my list. “

** * **

Lunch that week was held picnic style on the floor of Derek’s loft while he wasn’t home. His dad was still treating Stiles like he might explode at any moment. Derek was off kilter as well, hiding himself away due to his mistrust for the general populace. Stiles had convinced him to grocery shop, finally, and was laying sprawled on his back next to Lydia, who was reading a tome as thick as Derek’s biceps in a dead language.

“I do have to ask… Have you considered your options?” She asked him quietly, eyeing his stomach.

“What do you mean?” he asked, propping up on his elbows. It made the lump pooch out more than normal.

“You don’t have to carry it, Stiles. You don’t have to do this. You’re… You could get into a great college, get out of here.”

“I don’t want to get out of here. Beacon Hills is my home. I want to join the Beacon County CSI.” He admitted. She nodded as if that were acceptable.

“Do you want to be a father?”

“Honestly? Kinda yeah. I mean, I expected I wouldn’t be the one going through the freaky pregnancy though.” He sighed. “I… I can’t do that to Derek. Even if this thing comes popping out of me like alien… his face, Lyds.”

“I detest that nickname.” She wrinkled her nose the way he knew she would, which was at least 99% of the fun of the name. He gave her a shit-eating grin and got an eye roll in return.

“It’s soon. Way too fricking soon. I’m scared. Also freaked out. There is a thing living in me. The only thing my brain accepts could be living in there is a giant tape worm or an alien. I don’t want either of those things.”

“Your brain is terrifying…”

“Why do you think the Nogitsune liked it so much?” he cracked. She stared at him with wide eyes and her mouth open. “…Too soon?”

She closed the book and slapped him in the thigh with it.

“Abuse! Abuse!” He laughed. “That thing weighs like a hundred pounds!”

“it’s barely fifty.” She sniffed and opened it back up to her place.

“Hey, Lyds?”

“I refuse to respond to that horrid name.” She flipped him off.

“Yeah, yeah, you love it. Thanks, though. For making sure I’m ok. No one else really asked me. Dad just assumed I was keeping it.”

“No one else is as pragmatic as I am.” She agreed.

It was as close to a ‘Love you’ as Lydia ever really got.

** * **

 

Stiles was going stir crazy. Derek’s build didn’t show pregnancy like Stiles’ did. He looked like one of those bear men who got a muscle gut and could pick up cars. (Derek probably could pick up cars too, damn werewolf strength.)

Stiles looked like he was barely concealing a basketball. His belly button was poking out and he slathered so much cocoa butter on his skin that he permanently smelled like the stuff. He was going to write a letter of complaint if his stomach didn’t go back to normal after this.

Kira had joked that she had some cosplay wigs. They could disguise him as a pregnant woman with the help of the Queens from Jungle and he could go out.

He was at the point where he was almost considering it. He drummed his fingers on his stretched skin, shirt rucked up to his ribs. His dad came in and sat next to him. He still eyed Stiles’ belly like an alien might pop out of his belly button at any moment. Stiles could sympathize.

“Catch the bad guys today?”

“Caught Mrs. Jenkins flashing her neighbors again.” He sighed the sigh only a police officer dealing with an 80 year old repeat flashing offender could muster. It was very particular.

“Keep fighting the good fight.” Stiles patted him, tugging his shirt back into place.

“How’s the kid baking? You heard from Hale this week?”

“Fine, I guess. No changes at least. No news from the Sourwolf.” He tried not to be pissed off about it. His dad immediately looked determined, patted Stiles on the shoulder, and went to the kitchen with his phone. He came back about fifteen minutes later.

“He’ll be here for dinner at least twice a week.” He sounded accomplished. Stiles couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed.

“Cool. I want Brussel sprouts. With chocolate milk.” He decided. His mouth watered at the idea of it. His dad turning that alarming green shade just made it even better.

Stiles hefted himself up with no small amount of difficulty to start cooking. He threw together some chicken and noodles to go with everything. It was finished when Derek showed up; wearing a baggy sweater that mostly hid the rounded bulge of his stomach. His dad looked puzzled at his midriff and shot a look at Stiles’ own stomach again.

“C’mon in, son.” He patted Derek’s shoulder as he stepped by him. Derek looked slightly unsettled by the whole thing.

Stiles waved at him and took his normal spot at the dinner table with a huge glass of chocolate milk. He ignored the chicken and noodles and served himself a huge bowl of Brussel sprouts. He took a swig of milk around his first mouthful of the sprouts and sighed contentedly. Derek and his dad both turned green. He grinned at them after he swallowed.

“So, thought about what’s next?” Dad asked.

“I’ve gotten a nursery set up at the loft… I was... thinking about jobs. I can afford everything for now but I know the money won’t last forever. I want to prepare now.” Derek toyed with the noodles on his plate.

“You should apply to the station.” Stiles suggested. He watched Dad mull it over, stroking his 5 o’clock shadow thoughtfully. Derek looked a bit skeptical.

“You’d be a good asset to have. You’re trained in firearms. It’d give you reasons to be around the crime scenes.”

“What about my record?” Derek asked, bitterly.

“Exonerated.” Stiles waved his glass of milk at Derek. Dad chuckled a bit and nodded.

“That. We also have some former drug addicts working for us. They know how dealers think, where to go, and the lingo.” He waved his fork to accent his point. Derek nodded a bit and looked quietly thoughtful.

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?” Stiles asked around his next bite.

“…a fireman.” Derek murmured. Stiles felt his face wash with heat and his eyes fill up with tears. His stomach sank and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. Dad looked quietly horrified. Stiles burst into tears like a pathetic child.

“S-sorry. Hormones. Jesus Christ, Derek.” He fought the impulse to grab Derek into a hug.

“I didn’t mean to...Sorry.” Derek winced.

“Dude, it’s not you. Freeloader here screwed up all my reactions. Also, life is such an ass to you and that blows.” Stiles finally managed to stop the tidal wave escaping his face and took a few steadying breaths.

“Freeloader?”

“Well it’s that or calling it an alien.” Stiles shrugged a bit. “If it takes after me it will probably look like an alien anyway.” He laughed.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Derek frowned at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Why would it look like an alien if it took after you?”

“I was making fun of my appearance, big guy. We can’t all be werewolf Adonis.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh and took another swig of chocolate milk.

“Not appreciated.” Dad glared at him. “Also unfounded.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Derek practically ordered and took an angry bite of chicken. Stiles arched a challenging brow at him.

“Yes, my wiles worked so well on you.”

“We are both pregnant.” He retorted, dry as dust. Dad choked on his drink and shook his head.

Stiles just cracked up a bit.

** * **

Stiles let himself into the loft a couple days later and flopped back on the couch. He didn’t see Derek but he heard his footsteps soon enough.

“Stiles?”

“Had to get out of the house. I’m going a little stir crazy. I almost let Kira and Sharon Needles dress me up in drag.”

“Drag?”

“My belly isn’t as coverable as yours.” He gestured. “It… seems kinda crazy that we’re halfway through, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” Derek agreed and then sat down next to him.

“Can you hear their heartbeats?”

“Sometimes, if I listen very hard, I can hear this one.” He pointed to his own stomach. Stiles hesitated for a moment before he decided to go for it.

“Want to listen to mine?” He offered. “Get some baby bonding prenatal or whatever?”

Derek stared at him for a moment before he nodded. Stiles hefted himself up, no small task the further along he got, and stood in front of Derek. He tilted his head and pressed an ear to the right side of Stiles’ stomach and went briefly still before smiling. It was the smile from the Fairy ring, unguarded and eye crinkling happiness.

If Stiles had had any reservations left, the idea of Derek smiling like that at the baby forever made it worth it.

He gasped a bit when Derek started murmuring softly to the baby, nose barely brushing Stiles’ t-shirt and hands gently cradling his belly. It was too much. The universe was  
just teasing him now.

“Hey, Derek?” he asked softly. Derek looked up, a slight line of confusion between his brows and his expression surprisingly vulnerable. “If you could have picked this, would you have?”

“What do you mean? Being pregnant?”

“Me…I meant me.” He practically whispered. Derek’s eyes widened and his hands pulled back before Stiles clamped his eyes shut. That answered that question, then. “Hey, man, it’s ok.” He shrugged and stepped back again.

“Stiles, that’s not—“

“I got a weird craving for a pickle milkshake. I’m gonna go get Scott to buy me one. “ He refused to look at Derek as he left the loft.

** * **

Scott was the worst best friend in existence.

“You can’t live off pickle milkshakes and Brussel sprouts, Stiles.” He pleaded.

“I don’t want to live then.” Stiles replied and shifted. The baby was pushing hard on his kidneys today. It sucked really bad. Not as bad as his poor, crushed heart, but still bad enough.

“You have to get nutrients to the baby.”

“Why? It’s probably a werewolf that’s probably going to eat its way out of my stomach before Derek just snatches it from me and runs away to Mexico with it.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“He probably should. Then he wouldn’t have to see me.” Stiles rolled on his side, shifting the weight of his stomach forward a little bit.

“….I will tell Lydia on you.”

“You wouldn’t DARE.” He hissed at Scott. “Brocode!”

“Going to eat something?” He threatened. Stiles narrowed his eyes and held out a petulant hand for the sandwich Scott waggled at him. He took a huge bite, glaring balefully at him the whole time he chewed.

“You look like Abu when you do that.”

The literal worst.

Scott crawled up behind him in the bed and curled up, making Stiles the little spoon. He tried not to choke up a bit.

“I just… why can’t I ever fall for the right people?”

“They don’t know how lucky they are, dude.” Scott shook his head. “You’re the best person I know. If they can’t see that, they don’t deserve you. I would offer to kick Derek’s ass but that’ll have to wait.”

“Until the baby is born or until you could actually succeed at kicking his ass?”

“I’m going to go with a solid both.” Scott chuckled behind him. He sobered slowly and sighed. “Did you tell your dad yet?”

“No. I mean, he knows I instigated the whole thing. That’s what is killing me. I started it all. This whole thing is my fault.” He rubbed a slow circle on his stomach.

“You can’t choose who you fall in love with. Kinda sucks like that sometimes.”

“It sucks always.” Stiles sighed. “…can you stay?”

“Duh, bro. Who else is going to make sure you eat breakfast?”

Maybe Scott wasn’t quite the literal worst.

** * **

Stiles may have been wallowing. He got away with it for a good while. Third trimester of being stuck in the house, his feet looked like pudgy caricatures of themselves and, to put the cherry on top of his shit sundae, his morning sickness came back. It was like Morning Sickness part II, more gruesome than ever. He was lucky if he could keep down ginger tea and crackers or sips of flat coke.

He hadn’t seen Derek in two months. The weekly dinners came to a screeching halt when his dad asked about Derek and Stiles burst into angry pregnant tears. He was  
flopped on the couch now, a pillow under his huge stomach and three days of stubble on his chin. The door unlocked and he made a brief attempt at sitting up before his stomach felt like it was going to make a desperate bid for freedom.

“Hey, mopey.” Lydia took a prim seat on the coffee table in front of Stiles.

“Wrong dwarf, I’m pukey.” He offered. “Help me up?” He held up a pathetic arm at her. She gave him a long-suffering sigh and helped him sit up slowly. She crouched down and put a hand to Stiles stomach. He watched in morbid fascination as the baby rolled. It was really fucking weird.

The first couple times he’d felt it kick he hadn’t really been sure what was happening. Now it kicked so hard that sometimes he could see the outline of its’ toes. Pregnancy was fucking weird.

“That’s a bit horrifying. Does he do that often?”

“More frequently now. Hey, you said he! You know something I don’t? Psychic banshee powers?”

“Genetics. It’s twice as likely to be a male.” She waved a hand at him. “Because you and Derek are both male.”

“It’s a magical fairy baby. I doubt it cares about science.”

“You didn’t get an ultrasound done?”

“Deaton doesn’t have one big enough to see. He has one for if I was a cat or a dog. Derek probably knows but he’s still…” Stiles’ voice cracks and he gulps a bit, covering it with a sip of his flat coke.

“Have you called him?”

“I texted every day for a month. He didn’t reply.” Stiles evaded. “Still not really sure about this whole parenting thing. I guess Derek will just show up and snatch the baby and run off with it?”

“Why would he do that? Stiles, you’re being ridiculous. You’re too smart for this.” She sighs. “Derek cares about you.”

“What’s the basis for that hypothesis?”

“Trusted you over his girlfriend who had literally cast a love spell on him, saved your father and mentored him at work with supernatural beings, protected you from Liam in the van, lets pretty much only you touch him whenever you want, talking specifically to you while dying to reassure you. It’s not a hypothesis at this point, it’s a working theory. What’s your basis for him not caring about you?”

Stiles swallowed around the lump in his throat and scratched at the stubble on his chin.

“He also has trauma. Emotional talking is not his forte.” Lydia remarked.

“He talks plenty. He just doesn't want to talk to me." Stiles scoffs self-deprecatingly. 

“Enough. Up. Get up!” She motioned with her hands and tugged at him as he whined.

“My feet hurt. Are they still attached or did they just explode?”

“Still there. Shower and then shave. Nice clothes.”

“What nice clothes? I’m a blimp, nothing fits.” He argued. “Why do I have to get dressed?” he may have whined. It was possible.

“I will use your first name.” She threatened. He scoffed.

“You don’t know it.”

“Starts with an M.”

“I’m gonna shower.”

** * **

He made it through the shower and only puked once, so he decided to call that a win. Lydia ushered him out to her car. He gnawed on his lip a little.

“So what are you going to do? Walk me in and order us to kiss? I don’t think that will work out.”

“Of course not. I’m going to walk you in and tell you both to get your shit together.” She pursed her lips at him.

“Of course.” He sighed. His stomach turned over with nerves.

“Just talk to him. That’s not so hard, is it?”

“It kinda is.”

“Getting you to shut up is the hard part, Stiles.”

Well. He couldn’t argue with that.

Derek was curled up around a laptop and blinked at them when they walked in. He actually looked pregnant now, which was so weird.

“Use your words. Both of you. I’m leaving now.” Lydia pointed at both of them before she walked out of the loft.

“Stiles…”Derek shut off the movie that was on and put the laptop on a table. Stiles headed over a bit, pressing a hand to his stomach to make sure he wouldn’t fall over from the odd sense of gravity he had now.

“Lyds kinda… made me. Sorry. I know you don’t want to talk to me.”

“That’s not true. I just... don’t know how to say what I want to say.” Derek made a frustrated sound, staring at his hands.

“Just say it then? I mean... I get it. You’re not into me. It was a fluke. I’m weird and unattractive and I don’t shut up. I’m a blimp.” He shrugged helplessly. Derek stared at him, looking confused and then pissed off. He levered up off the couch with an ease that was frankly unfair when this far pregnant. Stiles manfully held his ground. It really was better to get it over with, at this point.

Derek made to speak a few times before giving a frustrated sigh. He moved so quickly Stiles startled hard when their bellies pressed together a second before their lips met. He gasped, eyes wide, but Derek held him close. Stiles shuddered and kissed him in return, trying to ignore the soaring of his heart. The baby had other plans and kicked at Derek’s stomach hard. He pulled back from Stiles’ mouth with a huff of laughter, pressing his hands to Stiles’ stomach.

“I would pick this. I do pick this. I pick you. I just… Is showing ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah, show me all you want.” He chuckled and then sagged a bit against him. “We’re stupid. Both of us. So dumb.”

“Well. I’m not. You, on the other hand…” He trailed off.

“You didn’t even text me back!” Stiles protested.

“I just told you I have problems saying things.” Derek frowned.

 

“That's true. You're right.” He sighed and pressed his forehead to Derek’s shoulder. It also meant Lydia was right. Double fuck.

“We're together now though.” Derek gave him the smallest smile in return.

Stiles decided that one didn’t really need a reply, just stretched over both their stomachs to kiss him hard. Derek made that same small, needy noise in the back of his throat that he did in the fairy ring. Stiles buried his hands in Derek’s hair and licked into his mouth.

For the first time in months, he finally felt ok.

** * **

So childbirth was going down in Stiles book of ‘Things We Don’t Talk About. Ever.’ He and Derek delivered about two hours apart from one another. The best part was actually watching Dad walk around with both babies on his chest while Stiles marveled over his newly flat again stomach. The pack generally was stuck between absolutely horrified (Liam) and overjoyed because babies (Kira). Cora had come in for the births as well, hovering and petting Derek’s head.

Stiles made grabby hands when Dad walked closer.

“Hey, son, you got to hold him for nine months.” He protested. Stiles’ boy was wearing an orange hat and a newborn onesie with a wolf on it. He was not remotely sorry.

“I gotta name him and everything. It feels like something I should hold him for, now that I’m not drugged up.” He grinned. Derek gave his own boy a longing look. His dad  
sighed a bit, bussed kisses to both their heads before handing them over. Derek’s boy was in all blue, as traditional. It had actually been surprisingly easy to agree on names  
after he’d dragged Derek to bed again.

The pack all gathered up, Deaton holding the birth certificates to write on for them.

“This… is Weylyn Scott Stilinski-Hale.” He announced happily. The baby cooed a little as he nuzzled into Stiles’ chest. Scott burst into tears.  
Weylyn’s face was scrunched still, a little splotchy and angry and he definitely had Derek’s brows. His fingers wrapped around one of Stiles’ and he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his whole damn life. He grinned over to Derek, who was still cuddling their other son with an expression of wonder.

“Oh…This is Raoul Cory Stilinski-Hale.” Derek smiled. Cora beamed at him and then made grabby hands.

“Give the nephew to me!” She practically ordered and then snuggled him close, rubbing her cheek against his to scent mark him. Stiles shifted and handed Weylyn over, watching as Derek’s face softened again and he pressed the sharp point of his nose against Weylyn’s teeny tiny one.

Stiles’ heart stuttered in his chest at that and he tried very hard to look manly while he cried.

** * **

So, newborn babies were terrifying. Stiles wanted to sleep but every time he shut he eyes, he was terrified that the boys would stop breathing. He fell asleep holding them, a lot of times, only to wake up and panic when Derek had taken them both and laid them down. This lasted about the first two months of their lives until he could finally calm down. The pack helped in shifts and so did his dad, but never took them out of Stiles or Derek’s sight. They still saw them practically every day, even though Stiles moved into the loft after the babies were born.

Now was the time of endless spit up. He had never really appreciated the plights of parents before. He’d puked on his mom and dad and they KEPT HIM.

Weylyn gave him an adorable smile that might have been happiness and might have been him taking a huge poop and milky drool leaked out of it. Raoul was busily attempting to stuff his toys into his face while Derek had sprawled on the floor exhausted and asleep after cleaning up the diaper explosion earlier when Stiles showered after being caught in the crossfire.

Stiles was torn between shipping them off for a night with his dad and never letting either of them out of his sight ever.

Raoul managed to scoot himself awkwardly, and backwards, to Derek and patted his face with a slobbery hand. Derek woke with a chuckle and scooped him up on his chest. Weylyn, immediately jealous, made a whining noise until Derek came and sat with Stiles on the couch.

“He’s spoiled.”

“I’m not sorry.” Derek grinned and leaned in to kiss Weylyn’s chubby cheeks.

“Yeah, me either.” Stiles grinned. Derek shifted course and kissed Stiles, lingering for a minute.

“I love you.” He said quietly. Stiles startled into a grin and kissed him again.

“Love you too.”


End file.
